Arrested Development
by temporary relief
Summary: After Aiden was fired, Mac has trouble finding a dependable team member. In fact, he would very much like his team to not be working with any mafia or mob bosses. Multiple pairings.
1. Fight or Flight

**Disclaimer: I do not own _CSI:NY_. I am a college student. I can't even afford to own all seasons.**

**Notes: Probably my last _CSI:NY_ story. It's a big one. The name of course comes from the TV show_ Arrested Development_. This has its funny moments. The only warnings I can think of are multiple pairings. Niki Foxx and the Foxx family belongs to NikNak17. Like always, enjoy.**

**Rated T for language.**

**Arrested Development**

**Chapter 1: Fight or Flight**

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It was just like a game of chess. Move your pieces into place and when the opportune moment hits, you strike.

Recently, all he had done was block these strikes. After firing Aiden only a month before, he felt shorthanded and had agreed to move Sinclair's lackey up to working more of his own cases. At the time, she helped out. She helped lift some pressures off the team before Lindsay came, and even now that Lindsay was here, she was still a help not a hindrance.

That was until a week ago when he put everything together. Since then, he had been accumulating everything he needed.

For weeks, he had flirted with the possibility that she had some mob connections. Sure, most of his team had those connections (part of the job - they knew people with less than pleasant backgrounds), but this was more than just a connection.

He tried to separate his own feelings about her. His dislike of her mingled with his level headed investigator approach to this.

First, there was the original case.

A thirty-seven year old man was found in an alley on 52nd with a bullet through his head and beaten beyond recognition. After a missing persons report had been filed, they were managed to confirm his name from his DNA. One Stephen Hanson. He worked for Hanson Law. His father started the company fifty years ago. Before the death of his son, they hadn't had any trouble. Now, the floodgates were open.

It turned out that Stephen had several infamous ties. His worst was to a cousin of the Foxx family.

Apparently, Stephen failed to come up with whatever his end of the bargain was with the Foxxes, and he paid for it with his life.

Then there was the evidence.

A nine-millimeter slug was found in the autopsy. Several impressions were made from his bones. Brass knuckles did most of the damage, but the rest was done with a series of punches and kicks.

A tiny onyx figurine of a fox was trapped in Stephen's hand.

Underneath his fingernails, they managed to collect DNA evidence that linked someone to the crime. Only, that evidence had somehow disappeared.

There was a suspect list. Two names on it.

Foxx. Not specifically one Foxx because it was damn near impossible to indict a Foxx on any crime. Not even tax evasion. They were suspected, however, of murder, arson, extortion, bribery, theft, assault, forgery, and racketeering. And that was just the short list of their (suspected) crimes.

Higgins. His- no Sinclair's Higgins. She wasn't connected to the murder as much as she was connected to the missing DNA evidence.

And of course, there was the evidence against her.

She was a trace expert who sometimes moonlighted as their sketch artist when they needed another. Although she may have been certified to handle DNA, she knew her place at the crime scene. She should have been nowhere near the DNA evidence. Yet, for some reason, it showed up in her crime scene photos, but not in her log of what she found.

If for whatever reason she took the DNA from under Stephen's fingernails, she should've logged it. She shouldn't have just taken the photo. Yet she had the photos of his hands and fingernails and of the DNA sample.

And that DNA sample that she should've never taken in the first place went missing right after she put it in the evidence lockup. It's not that there wasn't a DNA sample there. It's just that the swab in the lockup was completely sterile, meaning that it hadn't even been in contact with anything let alone Stephen Hanson's fingers.

The cameras in the evidence lockup conveniently decided to malfunction when she walked in with the DNA sample, which she never should've had in the first place. It started working again when she left. The next person who came in was Amy Smith, a DNA tech. He had already asked her about it, and saw she was telling the truth. She didn't have time to switch the samples in any case. The security cameras verified that.

She had the opportunity. She had plenty of opportunity. She had time to switch out the swabs while the cameras were out.

Not to mention her connection to one of the most notorious crime families in New York.

Niki Foxx was, as far as he or anyone else could tell, Kelly Higgins' best friend. Her phone records proved it too. Several calls a week to said Foxx matched up with his assessment. What made him more suspicious were the weekly calls from a 212 number. When he looked up the owner of the number, he wasn't surprised at all that it was another Foxx. Michael Foxx, a patriarch of the family and uncle to Niki Foxx, notorious for her leaving the family.

And, of course, she had the motive.

Something about crime families that usually rang true was that there were only two options when they offered a deal. Say yes or say yes. There was no other option. Well, there was, but that normally got you a one-way ticket to the city morgue.

So she must've gotten scared into it, he reasoned. He figured she probably didn't realize what she was getting into at the time, but then again, there was no way she didn't know what the Foxxes were about.

It was a good thing he never liked her to begin with because that would make arresting her hard.

With a warrant in his hand and two uniforms beside him, he practically pranced up to her in the park. The excitement that came with arresting a perp pulsated through him.

He handed the warrant to an Officer Perez, telling him, "She's probably not going quietly. I'll be over there." He pointed to an area about fifty yards past where Kelly Higgins and Niki Foxx were talking.

He walked over, reveling in his small victory against the Foxxes. Meanwhile, the two uniforms confronted the detective.

Perez grinned. "Kelly Higgins, you've been served."

"What?" The brunette eyed him warily.

He showed her the warrant. "Looks like you've been doin' some naughty things."

"So you're a stripper cop?" Niki asked wryly.

Perez's partner laughed. "She's under arrest. Looks like she's the dirty cop."

"What're you talkin' about?" Higgins spat. "I didn't _do_ anything!"

"Yeah, right," Perez said unconvinced. He pulled out his handcuffs. "Just turn around."

Niki looked shocked. "You're freaking kidding me, right? Kelly a dirty cop?" She winked at the two uniforms and ushered them away from her friend.

She turned around and saw that her friend was still standing there looking shocked.

"Kelly! Haul ass! Balls to the wall and get the hell outta here!"

The detective's brain finally started working as she realized that no one would listen to her in cuffs. She ran as fast as she could away from the two uniforms so that when they finally got away from Niki, she had a good two to three seconds on them.

They bounded after her, slowly closing the gap between them. She sprinted a good thirty yards before daring to look back. After she saw that they were closing the gap, she began to glance back every other second as she dodged people walking on the pavement.

Mac was ready for her. Or so he thought.

He wasn't ready for her to not slow down at all and collide into him straight on.

He broke her fall as both slammed into the pavement. She bounced off him and onto the ground as Perez and his partner, Sanchez, caught up with her. She was clutching her knee and swearing. Sanchez cuffed her and read her her rights.

Mac glared down at his now bleeding CSI as the uniforms lifted her off the ground.

"What're you playin' at, Taylor?" She spat a bloody mixture on the ground. "You're arrestin' me?"

He lifted an eyebrow as if to say "obviously."

"What for?"

"Tampering with evidence, resisting arrest, assaulting an officer, and obstruction of justice for starters," he answered with a dark smile.

She glared back at him and dared to ask him what he was talking about.

"You know, you're doing a bad job of making yourself look innocent." He stared her down as they started to walk toward a squad car.

"I _am_ innocent," she retorted.

"Then why would you run?"

"It's a nice day. I just felt like it," she quipped. "Gotta keep in shape."

He shook his head. "I almost didn't want to believe it was you."

She stopped suddenly. "Taylor, don't do this."

"It's my job."

She opened her mouth again to speak, but he held up his hand.

"You have the right to remain silent. Please use it."

She answered with a curious look at him as she realized that this was the result of so much more than the case. She knew then that he honestly didn't give a damn what she said.

The squad car faded in the distance and the next time he saw her was in interrogation. He didn't interrogate her, conflict of interest and all because he was her boss.

After about an hour of questioning, she remained silent (the first time he'd ever known her to not have anything to say since she started working for him). The only thing she said was such a cliché guilty phrase, he almost laughed.

"I'll take that lawyer now."

He looked at her for a moment before shaking his head.

"I'll see you in court."

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**A/N: I hope you enjoyed the first chapter. Please leave a review if you liked it :) This will have sporadic updates, but I am planning on finishing this story out. Have a great day! :D**


	2. Remember the Name

**Disclaimer: I do not own CSI:NY. I do own Kelly Higgins. Niki Foxx belongs to NikNak17.**

**Notes: Sorry for a lack of updating. I thought I'd update before I went back off to school. This takes place two years after the first chapter. Like always, enjoy.**

**Arrested Development**

**Chapter 2: Remember the Name**

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Two years later:

His dark shoes slid a little as he stepped out of the truck and into a gravel lot, causing a dust cloud to envelop the bottom of his slacks. The tops of his black dress shoes now mirrored the grey gravel he walked on.

After judging the temperature outside and finding it too warm for a jacket, he took it off and wished he hadn't worn black that day. He placed it in the backseat and grabbed his kit.

His eyes automatically scanned the crime scene to find what didn't belong. He didn't see the body at first because his eyes were immediately diverted to a pair of dirty, black, cowboy boots outside the crime scene.

A slight sigh left his mouth as he looked over the new detective. She was attractive if he could tell anything from the back of her. But he would leave the guys on his team to decide her "date-ability" as Danny once put it.

"You must be the new detective. I'm Mac Taylor, head of the crime lab," he greeted her casually. Diplomacy was always a good thing to start with. She turned around slowly at the sound of his voice.

He was met with a sneer from the new detective who took off her aviators to reveal an all too familiar face. "Remember me, Mister Chicago?"

Of course, he did. He would never forget her even though he wished he would.

"A word, Higgins?" He placed his kit on the ground then gestured to other side of the Avalanche where others couldn't hear them.

She placed her sunglasses on top of her head in a way so that they wouldn't mess up her ponytail and followed him to the other side of the vehicle.

When she stopped walking, she leaned against the truck to listen to whatever he would tell her.

He earned her gaze before he started talking. Starting in a low whispered, he informed her of his misgivings. "I need to be able to trust you. If you can't work with me-"

"Hold up, if I can't work with you?" She didn't even try to stop her hollow laughter. "You're the one who took me over here to talk about this."

"I don't even know if you can be professional," he answered seriously.

She didn't look offended. She looked calm as if she had rehearsed this before now. "I knew we'd have to work together again. Regardless of the fact that I spent a year in prison, lost my job, and lost my apartment because of you, I can get over my own feelings to work with you. We're a good team."

"Right," he didn't sound convinced.

She squinted at him as a passing cloud left and the sun returned. "I'm being civil, aren't I? I may think you're the biggest bastard to walk this planet, but I can work with you, Chicago."

"Nicknames are Danny's thing."

"I'm not flirtin' with you if that's what you're thinkin'," she told him flatly. "It's a reminder."

He raised an eyebrow. "Of what, exactly?"

"I'm innocent."

"Like Chicago?" He couldn't help but tease her. He didn't know why he did because he made no small secret of his dislike of her. She seemed… different. Maybe that was it.

"Taylor, I promise, I'll be professional. Will you?"

He gave her a look and brushed passed her.

"Wait," she grabbed his arm. He stopped dead in his tracks.

"What?"

"You owe me an apology." Her sneer faded into a small smile. She was completely serious. It was a nice change, in his mind, compared to what she was before.

He looked at her quickly, and she completely understood.

Walking away from her, he shook his head. He could deal with her, but he had hoped he wouldn't ever have to. Not again at the very least.

He picked up his kit and walked under the yellow tape. Her boots came down heavily on the small rocks in the lot as she followed him.

"Who found her?"

"Her boyfriend, James Thomas." She pointed to where a distraught man was talking to a mousy haired detective. "He was bringing her breakfast for their five month anniversary, and he found her in the lot like this."

"Is he a suspect?" Mac asked curiously.

She gave him a small smile. "I was hoping you'd tell me. He's a person of interest in any case. Anyway, our victim, Carol Johnson, works in a law firm as a secretary and has a six-year-old daughter, Kimberly. She's currently staying with her dad in uptown. Called him myself ten minutes ago. The dad said they switched off every other week."

He nodded.

"She's just a kid. Twenty-nine."

"Who's touched the scene?"

"Thomas and a uniform named Perry. If you have an evidence bag, he'll give up his shoes and the like." She returned her sunglasses to her face. "Thomas is cooperating fully."

"Good. Danny'll do it when he shows up."

"Whataya need me to do, Mac? By the way, I'm likin' the black," Danny smirked.

His boss wheeled around to face him. "Officer Perry has some shoes and clothes for you to collect. Also, I need you to get James Thomas' prints and DNA."

"Aye-aye," Danny replied with a grin and a salute.

Mac watched as Higgins showed him over to the young, mousy detective handing Thomas and the officer. He wondered innocently how long it had been since she last talked to the Foxxes. Before he allowed his mind to become enraptured with the possibility that she was still working with them, he knelt down next to the body of Carol Johnson.

She was beautiful and young. Her neck was at an awkward angle from the rest of her body as if it had been broken. Sid would have to tell him if that were correct or not.

"Morning, Mac," the chipper ME greeted him about twenty minutes later.

Mac looked like he had had a hell of a morning, and so he only answered with a nod.

"Helluva day, Hammerback," Higgins said when she returned to the taped off portion of the parking lot.

He looked up and smiled. "It's been too long since I've seen you. Pity that the only time our paths cross is here."

"It is. Anyway, I just wanted to give you a heads-up, I'm headed over to our victim's parents' apartment to tell them about their daughter. They might be by the morgue later," she frowned. "Nice to see y'all." She waved and walked off toward an unmarked car. On her way over, she tapped on the mousy detective's shoulder, and the two of them drove off.

"Why'd she leave so soon?"

"I suppose the scene's secure enough, and her job is done," Mac answered with an impatient look at the ME.

Sid snapped on a pair of gloves on and kneeled near the young woman. "I can't tell you for sure until I get her back to the morgue, but it looks like her neck was broken right at the base. It's too hot outside to get anything accurate from the liver probe, but from what I can tell she died about two hours ago. I'll give you a better report later."

An ME's assistant helped Sid move the body onto a gurney.

"Mac," Danny greeted him, evidence bag in hand, "did I miss the fight?"

"Fight?" Mac was genuinely confused. When he turned to Sid for some explanation, he found the ME grinning.

The oldest of the three finally explained. "I think what Danny's trying to say is that he didn't expect you and Kelly to work together so… platonically."

The subject of their conversation refused to answer. He merely continued working on processing the scene.

"You know, you two remind me of myself and this young, French woman from my college days. She and I would fight for hours, and the we'd… well, we wouldn't fight anymore," Sid told the guys with a twinkle in his eye.

Danny shook his head. "Kelly's single, Mac. You're single. I'm just sayin'." He broke out into a grin that said that he was not only teasing, but also couldn't keep a straight face as if the idea was funnier out loud than in his head.

His boss ignored him and continued to work. Sometimes, his team could be unbearable. Mostly Danny actually. The other people on his team had the decency to stay out of his love life. Even when he was dating Peyton.

His thoughts wandered back to the scene as other CSIs came and went, transporting evidence back to the crime lab. An hour or two passed before he turned the crime scene over to Danny while he went to see if Sid had anything. That was what he told the younger CSI. Honestly, he felt like he needed to babysit the detective and wait for her slip up. Because she would. She was as corrupt as the day was long.

The elevator opened, and he was met with a wave of noise. A woman, he assumed she was Carol Johnson's mother, was crying into her husband. To their right, two very worried looking techs crowded the autopsy table.

Only the techs looked up at him when he walked over. A familiar face joined them with a glass of water for the mother.

"Here you go. I'm so sorry for your loss. We have our best team on your daughter's case. In fact, the head of the crime lab's headin' it up. He's right over there," Higgins exaggerated her Southern accent a little as if that would calm the mother.

The father stood stoically, holding his wife. "Thank you."

The wife wiped her eyes and took the glass from Higgins. "Where's Kimberly? She should be with us."

The detective looked around awkwardly and finally fixed her gaze on Mac. She seemed to debate asking him something, but she decided against it and sent a dark look his way.

Her gaze lessened when she turned to the couple. "She's at her father's. I'm sure we can reach an arrangement. She's in capable hands."

Suddenly, the stoic man lit up in anger. "What do you mean she's at her father's?"

"I talked to him myself. She's safe and sound."

"No, she isn't. He doesn't have custody of her."

"I've talked to him myself. She's fine. Now, if you need anything, Doctor Hammerback will help you. Again, I'm so sorry," she tried to charm her way past the parents and did a poor job of it, but now wasn't the time for Southern charm. Now was the time for initiative. She made eye contact again with Mac who felt a sudden surge of pity toward the detective.

"Higgins, I think you're in a bit of a pickle."

"Damn straight," she nodded and kept her voice at a whisper. "Let's just not argue so we can find this little girl. Call Stella and get the address of Sam Cooper's apartment. I'm gonna call Wilson and get him to look up the custody hearing. Then I'll call Judge Fremont and get a warrant."

He thought quietly that she was fortunate to have a pocket judge.

She already had her phone out and dialing before Mac could lead her to the elevator. "Taylor?" His gaze snapped to her when she said that only to realize that she wasn't talking to him. "Yeah, yeah, I'm at the morgue. Look, I need you to find the file on the custody hearing of Kimberly Cooper or Kimberly Johnson. If it's above your clearance, find someone who's got it. This is important, kid."

Mac didn't call Stella. She was just upstairs from them, and the elevator was already there. Plus, they could just as easily get the address from the custody-hearing file. Higgins knew that, but she was panicked and not thinking clearly.

"Higgins," he started quietly. "We're going to find her."

"Yes, of course," she replied blandly as if she were in a daze. "Taylor, I screwed up, and if I don't make this right… God, I can't think of that. There's a little girl in this. I mean, I've screwed up before, but this, this is-"

He cut her off. "Most kidnappings involving the father aren't as likely to end in fatality for the child as others. We'll find her, and she'll be okay." Even though I'm supposed to hate your ass right now, he thought darkly, but he knew for once she was being straight with him. Besides, the Foxxes weren't involved – they didn't do child abductions. They had a standard after all. They didn't mess with kids. That wasn't their thing.

She tapped her fingers on her hip impatiently.

"Stop it," he told her automatically. It was a force of habit really. Their whole relationship seemed to consist of her doing things to annoy him.

"Dammit, Taylor!" She swore loudly and shoved her hands in her pockets. "I screwed up. The last thing I need right now is you."

"Me doing what?"

"No, just you."

"You need help, Higgins."

"And you're just going to give it to me?"

"Yes."

"No, strings attached?" She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at him.

The elevator doors opened. He pushed them closed again and pressed the button for the ground floor. This wouldn't be a short conversation. She responded by pressing the button for the garage.

"What do you want? This is my job. Why would I hold that against you?" He frowned.

"It's not exactly a secret that we hate each other. Don't argue, Taylor, it doesn't look good on you."

He merely raised an eyebrow.

"I don't know why you would want to ruin me, but you managed to. I've worked for the past year and a half to get my reputation back. I know that might not be a big deal to you. After all, you're Mac Taylor."

He frowned and allowed her to continue.

She did so without halting or caring that he was there. She was talking at him not to him. "I've worked too long and too hard to get where I am, Taylor. And now, it's all gone because bad things happen when we're together. I would've never been arrested if it wasn't for you."

"Damn straight, Higgins! You worked with the Foxxes! You may have been acquitted, but you know damn well that doesn't make you innocent!"

"I didn't. I wouldn't! They're my… they're more to me than you or your team ever were."

"You were a rookie."

"No, that was more than just rookie hazing. I get it. You didn't like not hirin' me, but that wasn't my fault!"

The doors opened to a crowd of people waiting to go up. She ignored them and rapidly pressed the 'Close Doors' button.

"You're dirty, Higgins." His voice was soft like a lulling whisper drawing her near. "Or at least, you were."

She laughed. "Give it up, won't you? I'm innocent. I wasn't just found not guilty." Her attack on him stopped and she started to backtrack. "Do you remember what you told me that day?"

He knew that she meant the last day of her trial, when the jury came back and acquitted her on (more than just) 'reasonable doubt.' He told her explicitly that she would never find a job with him. After that, she was given compensation by the state on her year spent in prison. She didn't ask for money but for a job in Homicide. She was a detective already so it wasn't much compensation. Plus, all contact with the Foxxes (with the exception of Niki Foxx) had been halted. She was clean as far as Sinclair was concerned. Typical.

"No, I don't."

"You told me to grow up. You know what, I did! I did all this, all this overtime shit because you told me to. All this for you. Mostly to spite you. But I realized something along the way."

He rolled his eyes.

"You're a bastard."

"Feel better?" He asked quietly.

She put on a fake smile for him and walked out of the elevator. He followed her.

"I'm not done talking to you."

"I assume you can walk and talk at the same time. I have work to do." She unlocked her car and yanked the door open.

He sat down in the passenger seat and just stared her down.

"Why do you have to be the quiet one?" She mumbled under her breath as she backed out quickly.

"I was waiting till you got out of the garage," he answered honestly.

"Are you going to apologize?"

"I have nothing to apologize for."

"Right, because the year I spent in prison was just a prolonged spa weekend. Thank you so much."

He shook his head. "You still have some growing up to do, kid."

"I'm not that much younger than you."

"You are, Higgins, and you don't listen. That's your problem."

"I only have one?"

"This is what I'm talking about. You're immature."

"I'm trying. Isn't that enough for you? I've come a long way from the person I was when we met."

He shook his head. "I don't know, Higgins. You say a lot, but you haven't done anything yet."

If he was going to say anything else, he never got the chance. Her phone rang, and she promptly answered it, ending their conversation. "Higgins." After listening for a minute, she said, "I'll meet you there. Bye."

"I screwed up."

"You've said that," he reminded her. "Your partner find out about the custody hearing?"

"Father doesn't have custody. I just talked to him this morning so I'll see if I can call him again, but I'm going to his apartment. Wilson's meeting me over with the warrant. I'll see if the super'll let me in." She looked around the neighborhood to see exactly where they were.

She drove a few blocks without saying anything else to him. They came to a rather rough part of town when she suddenly made a rushed parallel park. "So you need to get out."

"What?"

"Preferably now. This isn't the best stop so if you could hurry and get out."

"What are you doing?"

She fought a grin. "Savin' your life, Taylor."

"I don't think this is the way to do that," he looked outside at the neighborhood and realized he didn't have either his badge or his gun.

She reached over him and opened his door. "Don't make me unbuckle you too."

"Why're you doing this?"

"You don't have a gun or a badge. Right now, you're little more than a civilian. I couldn't put your life in jeopardy. What if something happened to you? Do you have any idea what that would do to my conscience?"

"You're being petty."

She looked at him innocently. "I would do no such thing, Taylor. I have your best interest at heart here." She dug in her pockets until she found a plastic card, which she handed over promptly. "I'll even give you my metro pass."

"It's not the metro, it's the subway," he corrected quickly. She rolled her eyes.

"Whatever. The door's open. You have my card. There's a station about a block or so east. I assume you know how to use it."

"You can't be serious."

She leaned over again and unbuckled him. "I am. I seriously think that you know how to use a subway, or at least the L. I hear they're similar." He didn't look amused. At all. "Get out. I can't let anything happen to you. I'm just keepin' you safe."

He felt the need to roll his eyes.

"There's a missin' kid, Taylor."

"I realize that, but I don't think the father's spooked. You call him, and he will be."

"Just get out of the car," she ordered and pointed toward the sidewalk. "I need to go."

He shook his head as he stepped out of the car, not closing the door behind him. She groaned as she leaned across the empty seat to close it. He watched with mild amusement as she drove away.

He picked up his phone to call Stella as soon as she was gone. "Stella?"

"Yeah, Mac? Where are you?"

"It doesn't matter," he answered after quickly looking around. It was the red light district after all. "Where does Samuel Cooper live? He was married to the victim from this morning, Carol Johnson."

He heard typing in the background as Stella looked through their online files for the address. "What do you need it for?"

"Higgins screwed up," he answered vaguely. "We need patrol there."

"What's going on? You went to the morgue and then now you're calling and it's been over an hour."

"There's a missing kid. Carol Johnson's kid. Her name's Kimberly."

"I'll get patrol over there."

"Higgins is over there with her partner. Apparently they have a warrant," he breathed exasperated.

"What happened?" Stella demanded.

Mac avoided the question with a good-bye as he heard seductive voices behind him.

"Dammit," he swore under his breath.

"Hey there, you look like you've had such a rough day. I can make you feel so much better," an all too familiar voice said from behind him. All thoughts of the case left his head as he struggled to keep his composure.

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**A/N: I hope you enjoyed this. If you want, you can always review this story. I want to improve and reviews help me. Have a great day! :D**


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